Dulce Bellum Inexpertis
by VeritySteel
Summary: Mary is alone and feeling betrayed by her partner and family. Everything is changing without her.   Rating for language. Reviews are greatly appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

I do not own any of the wonderful characters of _In Plain Sight _and this is strictly for non-profit entertainment value.

Mary Shannon was seven months pregnant. She still couldn't believe it herself. She didn't like kids and she hated the idea that people were now seeing her as a fragile flower, too delicate to hold a gun and much too fragile to go out in the field. "Never again," she vowed, "will I have a passionate, one-night stand with an ex without using protection."

She spun around in her chair. Stan had found paperwork for her to do. Mounds and mounds of it. Mary was almost caught up in paperwork for the first time since she started in Albuquerque.

Stan poked his head out of his office. "Mary, would you fax the Teresa Andersson's records over to the Tulsa office? Marshall and Delia are moving her today. That classmate that saw her probably has nothing to do with the drug cartel that is after her, but it'll be better to make sure that she's safe."

"She's my fucking witness, Stan, and you sent the two bimbos off to make sure she doesn't get killed on the way? Christ, Stan." Mary scowled at her boss.

"Mary, I'm serious. Fax those records now."

"Stan, I'm not your fucking secretary. Get a fucking secretary and stop bothering me." Mary shot back.

Stan strode out of his office, looking less than pleased with his inspector. He loomed over her desk with a glare to match her own.

"Mary, you're ticked because you're stuck here while Marshall and Delia move your witness. You know that it's not possible for you to go on a potentially dangerous trip while you're in this condition," Stan logically pointed out. "So, while you're here and have very little to do, I need you to fax Teresa's records to Tulsa. That's an order."

Mary looked at Stan for a moment. "Go to hell, Stan. Fucking go to hell."

"That's it, Mary. I've had enough of your whining and insubordination. Everyone in the office is sick of you and your bad attitude. I'm sick of it. Delia's sick of it. Even Marshall can't wait to get away from you. Your attitude is bringing everyone down. You're suspended for three days."

Mary had turned pale. _Even Marshall can't wait to get away from you_. The words kept circling in her mind. _Everyone is sick of you_.

"Oh gee, Stan. I hadn't realized that being pregnant made me completely incapable of independent thought. I hadn't realized that being pregnant automatically made me your secretary. I thought that's what secretary's were for. Where's Eleanor when you need her? Oh, that's right, she left, Stan. She didn't want to be in a relationship with you, so she left. So, until you get someone else, do your own damn paperwork, Stan." Mary had stood up, pulled on her jacket, and was almost at the door when Stan interrupted her.

"Don't even bother coming in on Thursday, Mary. You're done for a week."

"Fine by me, Stan. Fine by me," Mary yelled as she stalked out the door.

Only in the elevator did Mary begin to lose her rage. She ran a hand through her hand and wiped her eyes. The whole situation was a mess. Mary never intended to get pregnant. Ever. But it had happened and now she needed to deal with the consequences.

The plan was to give the baby up for adoption. There were thousands of women praying for a baby. One of them would be a much more capable mother than she could ever be. Just look at her mother.

The elevator doors opened and Mary hurried to the purple Probe that Peter had found to replace the replacement Probe. She recklessly drove home, blowing through at least red lights. Stan's words had unnerved her.

_Even Marshall can't wait to get away from you_. Her best friend. Her only friend. Even Brandi couldn't really be considered a friend, only a sister. She would always suspect Brandi of falling back to her old ways and Brandi would never be able to forgive her for it. Anyways, Brandi was getting married to Peter in three months and then she wouldn't come over as much anyways. Mary wasn't even Brandi's maid of honor. Some floozy twenty-something year-old friend from school got that honor. Mary couldn't blame Brandi because the other girl, Suzy, or something, showed much more interest in wedding planning than Mary ever could. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

_Even Marshall can't wait to get away from you. _He had gotten more distant lately, but she'd attributed most of it to time spent with Abigail. Mary only got to visit the most stable witnesses, so she'd spent less time with him at work, too. Abigail and Marshall seemed to getting pretty serious. They'd been going out for seven months now, and Marshall had been talking about asking her to move in with him soon. Mary knew that Marshall deserved someone to love him but that didn't stop her from feeling jealous. Everything was changing.

_Even Marshall can't wait to get away from you. _It wasn't true, was it? It couldn't be true. After all, Mary had dinner planned with Marshall on Thursday. He was taking her to that Mexican place that they both liked. Stan was wrong. Marshall didn't want to leave her.

Mary pulled into her driveway and parked in the garage. She had no idea what she would do all week. Jinx was in Colorado for some kind of ballet convention. Brandi was in town, but she was probably too busy having sex with Peter to come entertain her bored, pregnant sister. Brandi could manage to get her sister kidnapped by a drug dealer and almost die, but God forbid she repay her sister back with any small favors.

Mary settled down on the couch to watch _Die Hard_ again. She'd only seen it a million times, but it always cheered her up. Something about shooting lots of bad guys and lots of swearing made her heart glow. She would call Marshall later. He'd smooth things over with Stan. He might even be able to talk Stan into letting her come in to work on Wednesday or Thursday. Mary lay down on the house and resigned herself to yet another lonely day in an empty house.


	2. Chapter 2

Marshall had never really thought about what having a partner who wasn't Mary would be like. He'd always taken it for granted that they would be together until one was killed in action or they eventually retired. After all, most people just couldn't deal with Mary.

But then Mary got pregnant, something even Marshall couldn't have predicted. The father, as far as Marshall could tell, was probably David, the college boyfriend who Mary happened to randomly run into on one of their witness relocation trips. When business brought David to Albuquerque, he took her out to dinner.

_Evidently they did a lot more than just eat _thought Marshall gruffly. He knew that he had no right to begrudge Mary her happiness. God knows she deserved it, after taking care of her screw-up family for years, sacrificing her chances at happiness in order to ensure they weren't thrown in jail or found lying in a ditch somewhere. And then David left town and Mary showed no signs of wanting to reconnect.

When Marshall ventured to ask Mary what happened with David, she just grunted and said, "Bastard. He knows he's lucky that he left with his balls intact."

Marshall had immediately tensed up, ready to track down and murder the man who had dared to hurt Mary. "Mare…"

"Jesus, Marshall, chill. It wasn't anything like that. He didn't hurt me. And, by the way, I can take care of myself," she retorted as she walked away.

That had been almost seven months ago now. And now Mary was pregnant and on desk duty. Marshall sighed, rubbing his hand across his face. Road trips with Delia were fine. In fact, they were more fun than normal because he was steadily supplied with muffins and other pastries and he didn't have to deal with Mary's moodiness and explosive temper. He genuinely missed driving around with his partner, but she was dangerous to be around lately. But traveling with Mary was an experience like none other…

"Hey there, partner, what are you thinking about," inquired Delia, returning to the car with two coffees.

"Oh, nothing. Just hoping that Teresa will be happy in Tulsa," replied Marshall, automatically reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

"Hey, Marshall, I don't need your money. Keep it. Next time you can pay for the coffee."

Marshall blinked. "Ok, good deal. Let's go."

As he shifted into drive and pulled away from the gas station Marshall began to think that maybe traveling with Delia was more than fine.

It was eight at night by the time Marshall arrived home after dropping Delia off at her apartment. His cell went off and he answered without glancing at the screen.

"Hey, honey, how was work today? Did the Albuquerque PD take down any bad guys?"

"Hey, numbnuts, how about you look at your phone before answering it. Seriously, if I have to listen to your overly sappy, mushy, disgusting affection for your girlfriend again, I will overdose on your cheesiness and then I'll die. God, why I put up with you is beyond me."

Marshall smiled at Mary's grumbling. She liked to make a fuss about everything. In fact, her constant grumping and complaining was basically her form of affection.

"Hey, Mare. What's up?"

"What's up? What's up? You've been gone to Tulsa for the past two days and you left me with a pile of paperwork up to my ears that I couldn't even force you to do. Listen, I may have been a little bit of a bitch today at work and…."

"Did you know that Tulsa has more convenience stores on street corners than any other city per capita in the U.S?"

Mary impatiently retorted, "No, I didn't know that doofus. I'm trying to tell you something. Stan may be a bit ticked tomorrow…"

Marshall turned around as a familiar black car pulled into his driveway. He smiled broadly. "Mare, I've got to go. Abigail just pulled up. See you tomorrow." Marshall abruptly hung up his phone and turned to greet his girlfriend.

She smiled at him. "Hey there. Did you miss me?"

Marshall smiled back at Abigail. He had had some reservations when he started going out with Abigail, but it was at moments like this that he remembered why he loved being in a relationship. His days before had been numbered by long work-days followed by Star Wars marathons, work outs, and sleep. Now Marshall finally had someone to come home to.

"Hey there, gorgeous. I think you missed me," Marshall replied, stooping to kiss Abigail.

"Oh, maybe a little," she giggled.

Marshall loved her giggles. She was never afraid to show her happiness or her enthusiasm for life. Abigail was always coming up with new things for them to do as a couple. Together they had run a 5k, gone rock climbing, and the American National Rattlesnake Museum, which was much more exciting than most people would expect.

Abigail had laughed saying, "Rattlesnakes make every effort to avoid contact with people. Their venom may be highly toxic. Sounds like Mary, except safer."

Marshall had hesitated but ventured to say, "Mary only tries to avoid people that she thinks are stupid. She doesn't really hate people. She loves…"

Abigail immediately interrupted, saying, "But, Marshall, you have to admit that your partner thinks that almost everyone is stupid. She makes every effort to avoid contact with people. In sorry, Marshall, but I'm sorry to inform you that your partner…is a rattlesnake."

Marshall wanted to defend Mary; he hated that Abigail pretended to know her. But he didn't want to provoke a confrontation. He'd had enough bickering with Mary in the past week to last him at least a month, so he gave a short laugh and smiled at Abigail.

That had been a month ago. Mary had only gotten testier and testier, making Abigail's derogatory comments about Mary more frequent. Once in a while Marshall even found himself agreeing with his girlfriend. He knew Mary was feeling overwhelmed by her life and was sad that he was spending less and less time with her, but he had an obligation to his girlfriend now.

"Let's go inside," suggested Abigail, pulling him out of his out of his thoughts. Marshall let Abigail pull him inside the house, shutting the door firmly behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

"Mare, I've got to go. Abigail just pulled up. See you tomorrow." Click.

Mary stared at the phone in her hand. Marshall had never hung up on her like that before. She supposed that he had every right to treat her with the same disregard that she had treated him with in the past, but she was still taken aback.

Stupid Abigail, with her bubbly personality and constant enthusiasm for life. It wasn't just Abigail's optimism that bothered Mary, because Marshall was generally an optimist. Mary could deal with optimism. It was the way that Abigail treated her.

Abigail hadn't tried to get to know her, but she went around acting like she had known Mary all her life. Abigail acted like Mary was only a grouch, could only ever be a grouch, and would always be a grouch. Abigail blew off Mary and her negativity but refused to consider that there might be reasons behind it.

Mary sighed and walked over into the living room. She had made an effort to reconnect with her partner and explain what had happened with Stan. She had been responsible and mature today. Well, after that deal with Stan, of course.

Marshall would just have to deal with her absence.

Mary turned on the news and lay down on the couch, unconsciously rubbing her rather large belly. She fell asleep before the initial report was finished.

Marshall entered the office at precisely 7:45 the next morning, grinning to himself. Abigail had made bacon and pancakes. He was going to get fat if he kept eating home-cooked meals instead of the sporadic take-out that he and Mary usually subsisted on.

Sitting at his desk and sipping his coffee, Marshall nodded at Stan and Delia as they entered at 8:00. "Morning, Stan. Morning, Delia."

Stan merely nodded but Delia stopped to chat for a bit.

8:15. No Mary, but that was certainly not unusual.

8:30. No Mary, but still not unusual.

8:45. Marshall started glancing up at the door every few minutes, willing his partner to come storming in, pissed off about something or other.

At 9:00 Marshall stuck his head in Stan's office. "Hey, Stan, do you know where Mary is?"

Stan briefly glanced up from the pile of paperwork he was working on. "Don't you two ever talk to each other? I'd rather not discuss Mary right now," he said icily.

Marshall took one look at Stan's face and quickly retreated. Clearly something had happened while he and Delia were gone that caused a major rift between Mary and Stan.

Marshall decided to call Mary, retreating to the entryway to keep his conversation private from Delia. He had a feeling that this conversation was going to involve a lot of profanity and yelling and he wanted to spare Delia from Mary's rant, which would definitely be audible from even a considerable distance. But he also wanted to have a private conversation with his partner.

Speed dial number 1. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. His call went to voicemail.

_Hey, Mare. I'm just calling to check up on you. If you don't answer your phone the next time I call I will drive over to your house and drag your ass out of bed. And I won't bring in donuts for a month. _

Marshall smirked. He suspected that Mary would consider his first threat irrelevant because she didn't actually think he would bother driving all across town to drag her ass out of bed. He totally would, but he didn't have to deal with the violence that would come with it. Mary was pregnant, but that didn't stop her punches from leaving bruises.

But he knew that Mary would feel truly threatened by the loss of donuts for a month. He knew that pregnancy was uncomfortable for her, so he had tried in her favorite treats more often than normal. She had never said "thank you", but he could tell that she truly appreciated his extra effort.

Marshall waited a few minutes to give time for Mary to grumble and listen to his voicemail.

Speed dial number one. Ring. Ring. Ring.

Mary's voice came on the line. "You'd really be so cruel as to deprive a heavily pregnant, cantankerous grouch of the one thing that makes her completely happy for at least a few minutes each day? I totally underestimated your capacity for evil."

Marshall smiled. He admired Mary's spirit and her ability to describe herself so accurately. He just wished she'd be able to see that who she is should be good enough for everyone. He loved her because of everything about her.

"You know I wouldn't hesitate. So, why aren't you here this morning?" A sudden, horrible thought came to Marshall's head. "Nothing's wrong with you or the baby, right?"

Mary snorted. "No, doofus. We're both fine. Again, I can take care of myself. And if I couldn't, I would've called you to drive me to the hospital because we both know Jinx is too far away and Brandi would probably freak out and crash into something."

It was Marshall's turn to snort. "Good point. So why aren't you here?"

There was a moment of silence on Mary's end. "Stan got a tiny bit upset with me yesterday. I may have blown up at him a little."

Marshall sighed. "Mare, you know Stan's been trying to be stricter with us lately because of presser from the higher-ups. What the hell did you say?"

"Well, I may or may not have told him Eleanor ran away from Albuquerque because she didn't want a relationship with him."

Marshall sighed again. "Mare, you know that he's still a bit…tense…about Eleanor. Why did you have to go and tick him off again?"

"Well Jesus, Marshall, he was treating me like his fucking secretary! If I wanted to be a fucking secretary I would dress like my sister, find a rich boss, seduce him, marry him, and take all of his money when the divorce was finalized."

Mary's rant startled a laugh out of Marshall.

"I'm serious, Marshall. He's been treating me like a housewife from the fifties!"

"He's just trying to keep you safe, Mare. You know that."

There was a minute of silence before Mary grudgingly answered, "I know. But it's hard, Marshall. All this fuss and bother for a kid I'm not even going to keep. I would give this whole pregnancy deal to someone else, but I can't."

"How long are you suspended for?"

"Until next Monday. It was only until Thursday, but I may have mouthed off a little bit more."

"Oh, Mary," Marshall groaned. "When will you ever learn? You know, you should've called me about this so I didn't wonder where you were this morning."

There was a long, long silence. It seemed to Marshall to last forever. Finally her voice broke the silence. "What the fuck do you think I was trying to tell you when I called you last night? Goddamn asshole."

Click.

Marshall thought back over their conversation last night. He had kept interrupting Mary when she was trying to tell him something about Stan.

Oh, shit.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Mary knew that all good things could never last. Everything went to hell, eventually.

She knew that she was hard to deal with and that she was better at pushing people away than just about anything else, but Mary had expected to be friends with Marshall forever. She counted on him to keep her sane when her world kept crashing down on her.

She had been mad at Marshall when he had blown her off when she was trying to tell him something important but she had been willing to forgive him when he called to check on her and their conversation seemed so normal. Almost like the conversations they had before Abigail had come along.

But Mary's world was crashing down on her now and Marshall wasn't there to keep her sane. Mary stared at the phone for a long second.

_Even Marshall can't wait to get away from you. _The careless words that Stan had thrown at her burned through her mind. She couldn't really believe them when Stan had said them, but Marshall's actions had proven that Stan was right. Her best friend was fading away. And Mary couldn't even bring herself to blame him.

_Shit. I totally screwed it up this time. _Marshall cursed himself in language he usually saved for the most idiotic witnesses. Mary must think that Abigail was more important to him than she was. Mary had never been able to see that all his love had always, would always, be for her and only her.

Running back to his desk, Marshall grabbed his keys and suit jacket and ran out the door.

"Marshall. Where the hell do you think you're going!" Stan shouted.

Marshall turned around. "Long story, Stan. The gist of it is that I'm a complete moron. I just completely fucked it up with Mary. I've got to talk to her now."

Stan knew that a lot of Mary's anger stemmed from how much time Marshall had been spending with Abigail. Stan knew that Marshall had the right to his own relationship, but he just wished Marshall had chosen another time to start dating Abigail. Stan also suspected that Marshall was only really dating Abigail to make Mary jealous. Mary had the cynicism, the wit, the sarcasm, and the deep, wonderful heart that Marshall needed.

Stan didn't hesitate. "Go talk to her Marshall. And tell her to come in tomorrow. I was too harsh on her."

"Got it, chief," Marshall said as he jogged out the door.

Delia, sitting at her desk, shook her head. Things were certainly unorthodox at this office. She wasn't sure that she liked or understood why so much revolved around Mary Shannon.

Marshall forced himself to drive calmly but quickly to Mary's house.

Pulling into her driveway, he walked to her door hurriedly. Marshall pounded on the door. "Mary, it's me. We need to talk. Now."

All was still and Marshall couldn't hear any movement in the house. "Mary, I know you're in there. Open up the door, we need to talk."

Silence met his demand. "Mary, please," Marshall pleaded desperately.

Marshall knew that Mary wouldn't welcome his intrusion, but he opened Mary's door with the key she had entrusted him with years ago.

The living room was empty, as was the kitchen. Marshall moved silently through her house. The door to Mary's bedroom was open and Marshall could see that Mary was putting a pile of something in one of her dresser drawers.

Sensing a presence behind her, Mary whirled around, gun in hand. "Jesus, Mann. What the hell are you doing in my house? Get out."

"Mary," Marshall begged, "I know I've been an idiot. I know that I've been ignoring you and that you need my help right now. Just listen…"

Mary interrupted quietly, "I would rather not speak to you right now." And then she left the room calmly, in a very un-Mary-like fashion. Marshall heard her go out the door. Heard her car start up and pull out of the driveway. He knew he couldn't follow her.

Marshall stood there for ten minutes, alone in his partner's house. The place that was hers. Her place of comfort, a place to hide from the world. Marshall started to leave, but was unable to resist looking in the drawer that Mary had been rummaging in when he entered. Marshall knew that he was intruding on Mary's privacy, but he needed to see if the drawer could provide any clues as how to regain Mary's trust.

It was the bottom drawer on her dresser. Digging through its contents, Marshall found sweaters and t-shirts. Just as he was about to abandon his search, Marshall's fingertips brushed against something smooth. He pulled out a pile of photographs.

On the top was an image of a man Marshall supposed must be Mary's father, holding her on his shoulders, with an infant Brandi in the stroller right next to him. Marshall flipped through the pile. The first few pictures were all of Mary and her father. But the rest of the photos were what shattered his heart.

The photos were of him. There he was with Mary at the Christmas party. Mary and Marshall when he had convinced her to go bowling with him. Mary and Marshall hanging out by the pool. Marshall sleeping on her couch. Marshall with his birthday cake.

The last photo showed Mary and Marshall laughing together on just an ordinary day. The photo somehow captured the deep connection between the two partners. Stan had taken the photo and gave it to Marshall. Marshall had put it in his top desk drawer but it went missing one day.

Marshall had become very upset because he feared that he had accidently thrown away the photograph. The next time he went to Mary's house, though, he saw the photo displayed prominently in her living room. Neither Mary nor Marshall ever mentioned the incident. Marshall himself had a similar picture in his living room.

The photo was a public testimony to their friendship. And now it and all the other images of him were consigned to the bottom drawer. Marshall knew that this meant that Mary thought their friendship had irrevocably ended. She thought that she would have to add Marshall's abandonment of her to the wounds that already scarred her.

But what scared Marshall the most was that his image was now grouped with that of Mary's father, the man who left his wife and kids to fend for himself. The man who robbed banks and ruined lives. The man whom Mary could never forgive.

Marshall sat down on the bed – Mary's bed. He felt like crying, but even tears escaped him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Marshall was staring blankly at his computer screen the next morning when Mary walked in. He supposed Stan had called her to tell her to come in, since he had never had the chance to impart the message.

Mary looked like she hadn't been sleeping well lately and Marshall marveled that he hadn't noticed how the normal pregnant glow was completely missing from his partner.

He cursed himself for being so caught up with Abigail that he had missed Mary self-destructing right in front of his face.

Mary sat down heavily at her desk without speaking to anyone, staring at her computer like it somehow could explain the mysteries of her life to her.

Marshall got up tentatively and walked over to her desk. He was grateful that Delia had taken the day off for a family engagement. Delia wasn't a part of the WITSEC family yet, and she would never be as important to him as Mary.

"Hey, Mare. Listen, I'm really sorry for not being there for you when you needed me. I'm sorry that I made you feel like Abigail was more important to me than you. You've been my best friend for seven years, Mare. I've known her for like six months. She can't even begin to compare."

Marshall hoped for some sort of passionate response. He wanted Mary to declare how hurt she had been by his actions or scream at him for being such an ass. He wanted her to tear him to shreds like she did all the people she didn't like in the world, which was just about everyone she knew. Anything but the response he got.

Tiredly Mary said, "I accept your apology, Inspector Mann. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do." She turned from him to her computer screen and emotionally checked out.

Marshall stood there for a minute, but eventually sighed and returned to his desk. Mary's response frightened and cheered him at the same time. Her lack of emotion meant that she was bottling her feelings up inside, not even letting herself know how she felt. However, she hadn't run away from the situation and he was still in her life. Marshall had a chance to work his way back into her life.

He leaned back in his chair and cast a wistful look at his partner, looking through adoption profiles on her computer screen. Marshall began to plot ways to fix what he had broken.

His first step was easy. Dump Abigail.

He knew that most people would say that it was ridiculous to break up a romantic relationship just because his partner needed him. But then again, most people didn't know Mary. She was worth it.

Furthermore, Marshall knew that any other woman would just be a substitute for Mary, a second-choice pick. And every man and every woman deserves to be someone's first-choice. It was unfair to keep leading Abigail on this way. Marshall despised clichés, but he knew that he had met his soulmate, and that she was the only one who mattered.

So Marshall planned out his breakup with Abigail. They were meeting at her apartment to watch _Ironman II_, so he figured he'd just go over there and break it to her.

Pulling up to her building, Marshall felt a moment of regret. He genuinely enjoyed Abigail's companionship. Before her, he spent all his free time filling his mind with random trivia or waiting impatiently to go back to work so he could spend time with Mary. Interesting things happened when Mary was around. Marshall chuckled to himself, picturing the day when Mary had substituted salt for sugar in Stan's coffee and was forced to sprint, laughing hysterically, from the office as Stan threw pens at her. _Yeah, _he thought, _Mary is definitely the one for me._

Marshall walked up to her unit and knocked on the door.

"Hey, there you are!" greeted Abigail enthusiastically. Marshall forced a smile.

"How are you?" he asked, bending to kiss her cheek.

"I'm great! So, I've got vacation time coming up and I was wondering if you would…"

Marshall interrupted her. "Before you go any farther, Abigail, there is something I have to talk to you about."

Abigail's smile faded just a bit making Marshall feel more than a bit guilty, but he pushed on, knowing that he had to say it.

"You're a wonderful person and a beautiful, strong, intelligent woman. But I can't do this."

Abigail sighed and nodded. "I kind of figured this would come sooner than later. You can't make your heart go where it doesn't want to go."

Marshall nodded. "As a very smart lady once said in _Sweet Home Alabama, _'The truth is I gave my heart away a long time ago, my whole heart, and I never really got it back.'"

Abigail grinned despite herself. "Does Mary know you watch chick flicks?"

"No," replied Marshall. Eyeing Abigail suspiciously, he said, "And you better not tell her. I have no idea what kind of response Mary would have, but it could certainly include covering my desk with pink glitter, feathers, and writing 'Princess Marshall' on my nameplate."

Abigail and Marshall both chuckled, picturing Mary enacting a great scheme. The thought made Marshall a bit sad, as Mary hadn't come up with any brilliant schemes for a while. Ever since he started dating Abigail, ever since Brandi was getting married, ever since she got pregnant. Marshall vowed to help her scheme again.

"But seriously, Abigail," Marshall continued, "I am very sorry for putting you in this situation. You deserve more than you got. But you deserve to find someone who can give you their heart. I love Mary, and one day we'll end up together."

Abigail smiled affectionately at her ex-boyfriend. "I'm a big girl, Marshall, and I knew what I was getting into. You think that Albuquerque PD doesn't gossip about the two of you? All the guys want to ask Mary out, but they're too scared that you might shoot them for it."

Marshall grinned and extended his hand. "Friends, then."

Abigail grasped his hand firmly. "Definitely friends." She reached up to kiss his cheek. "I'll see you around, Marshall."

"See you, Abigail," Marshall murmured as he let himself out of her apartment.

Driving back to his house with the windows down, Marshall felt alive for the first time in months. He and Mary could mend their friendship. And then they could take on the world together.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day at work Mary treated Marshall distantly but politely. Her politeness unnerved everyone in the office, as Mary was never polite to anyone, but Marshall assumed it was some sort of coping mechanism. He was going to bring the old, cantankerous, rude Mary back before anyone had time to miss her.

Marshall went to the break room to get himself a cup of coffee when Delia called out, "Hey, Marshall, do you think you could bring me back one, too?"

Marshall nodded, chivalrously. "Sure, Delia."

He saw Mary look up wistfully at the mention of coffee, but she quickly averted her eyes when he glanced her way.

Proceeding into the break room, Marshall got three mugs down, two regular and one decaf. Figuring he couldn't hold all three at once, Marshall brought Delia her mug first.

"Thanks, Marshall!" Delia exclaimed.

"Anytime, Delia, I owe you for all of those muffins," Marshall replied.

Out of the corner of his eye Marshall could see Mary eyeing Delia's coffee, looking more like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse than a professional law enforcement agent.

Delia saw the look too. "Oh, no you don't," she said, moving her coffee mug to a safer location. "This is my coffee, Mary."

Mary slumped back in defeat and closed her eyes as Marshall went back to the break room.

He returned, held Mary's coffee mug under her nose, and was rewarded by Mary opening one eye. "I would have thought that you, trivia man, would know that pregnant women aren't supposed to have coffee. Or are you just attempting to harm my fetus?"

"Relax, pregnant one, it's decaf," Marshall said, sipping his own coffee. "And I put two sugars and one cream in it, just the way you like it." He set the coffee on the edge of her desk and went back to his computer.

Surreptitiously watching, Marshall observed Mary glaring at her coffee for a good five minutes before sneaking a sip every time she thought he wasn't looking. Marshall got a call to check on one of his witnesses just as Mary was finishing her coffee.

"Glad to see your coffee addiction overcame your stubbornness and you drank it while it was still hot," Marshall quipped as he quickly strode out the door. Not quickly enough, though. He was hit hard in the back of the head with an accurately thrown roll of tape. _Damn, that was a great throw from that angle_, admired Marshall appreciatively.

"Next time I'm throwing my stapler," yelled Mary as Marshall stepped onto the elevator. As the elevator doors closed, he could hear Mary commanding, "Go pick up my tape, Delia. I'm fatter than a walrus and have to drink coffee that tastes like mud. And I said so."

_That's my partner_, thought Marshall

Marshall pulled up to Mary's house at precisely six o'clock. He got out of his SUV and loudly knocked on the door. After a minute Marshall heard stirring from the back of the house.

"Who the hell is that? Whoever you are, I don't want to talk to you right now," grumbled a voice loudly from inside the house. Despite the complaints, Mary opened the door and stared at her partner.

"What the hell are you doing here, Mann? I thought I was pretty obvious about being a bit unhappy with you right now."

Marshall shrugged. "I know you're upset with me and I probably deserve it. But I'm your friend and I promised to bring you to Guadalajara Restaurant today, so I'm going to."

Mary stared at Marshall. "Dream on. I'm not going to dinner with you today." And she promptly shut the door in his face and fastened the deadbolt.

Marshall stood on Mary's step, considering his options. He could use his key to get into the house, which would only further set back his reconciliation with Mary. He could leave, which would be just like giving up. Or he could ring her doorbell incessantly. Marshall knew that the doorbell seriously annoyed Mary, so he decided for the third option, figuring Mary would eventually open the door to throw something at him in order to stop the noise.

Marshall estimated it would take five minutes for Mary to open the door.

To his surprise, the door opened at the first ring. "Hey Marshall, are you looking for Mary?" inquired Brandi.

Mary rushed around the corner at that moment shouting, "Brandi, don't!"

"What?" asked Brandi, thoroughly confused.

Marshall took the opportunity to step inside the house before he got the door slammed in his face. Again.

Mary sighed. "Never mind, Brandi. It's okay."

Brandi looked from one partner and the other and decided that somewhere else was probably the best place to be at the moment. "Nice to see you, Marshall," she called as she hurried out of the room.

Mary glared at Marshall. "I'm not going anywhere."

Marshall nonchalantly leaned against the doorframe. "Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"You totally are."

"No, I'm not."

"You are."

"This is ridiculous."

"You're coming."

"You're the most ridiculous person I know."

"So, you're coming?"

"No."

Marshall eyed Mary. He knew this wasn't going to be easy, but Mary needed his support and he had to demonstrate that she had it. "Come on, Mare, you know you love Mexican food. You can have whatever you want. Limitless churros. Think about it, Mary. Think of all that sugar."

Mary could feel herself wavering. Churros were her favorite and Brandi was making some kind of extremely questionable stew for supper. "I'm not stepping a foot outside of this house."

Marshall decided it was time for drastic measures. He stepped close to his partner, scooped her up in his arms, and quickly strode out the open door.

Mary was pounding on his back the entire way, but he had taken her so off guard that her resistance was minimal. _Good grief, she's strong, _thought Marshall. _I'm going to have bruises for sure._

"Put me down, numbnuts. Kidnapping is a crime, dumbass! Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?"

Marshall set Mary down by the passenger door of his SUV. "I watched too many superhero movies at a young age. I've attended too many _Star Wars _conventions. I was beat in a yo-yo competition by a six-year old and suffered a huge blow to my self-esteem. I've been deathly afraid of goldfish since the age of five when my uncle told me that they were the North American equivalent of the piranha. There are so many things to choose from, just take your pick."

Mary smirked in spite of herself. "Goldfish? Really?"

Marshall sighed. "Get in the car, Mary, and I'll tell you all sorts of embarrassing stories about myself."

Mary held her ground. "No, Marshall. You picked me up like some goddamn invalid. I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I'll tell Stan who spread the rumor that he has a serious crush on Faber."

Silently, Mary got in the car. Marshall closed her door and got in the driver's seat. Who knew that even Faber could come in handy occasionally?


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the really long wait guys. Life is crazy, what can I say? But here, without further ado, is the next chapter.**

The silence in the car was stifling. Marshall glanced at Mary for the thousandth time in the five minutes that they had been traveling.

"Mary, talk to me."

"No," Mary defiantly declared.

"Mare…."

"I'm only along with churros. Conversation was not included in the terms of negotiation."

Exasperated, Marshall sighed loudly. "Mary, you're not even that mad at me anymore. You're just frustrated about your situation. You see things around you changing and you can't deal with it. You see others changing, becoming happier, and you see your body changing, but you think that you can't change."

Mary pointedly looked out the window, but Marshall stayed silent, letting her formulate her reply.

"Damn it, numbnuts, I hate it when you're right. I'm not mad at you. Well not much, anyway. I'm not even mad at your police officer Barbie. Everything is changing, and it's leaving me behind. Soon you'll be honeymooning in Paris with your bimbo, visiting the Louvre and saying pretentious things like, 'The undercurrent of this painting is almost lyrical', or some other such bullshit. Brandi will be part of the Albuquerque version of _The Real Housewives _series, and Jinx will be presenting her six-year prodigy to the New York Ballet. You'll move away with the Barbie, and I'll be left alone with Stan, serving him cups of coffee until we're forced to retire."

Casting a bemused look at Mary, Marshall inquired, "Don't you think Stan would rather swim with alligators than ask you to get him a cup of coffee?"

Against her will, Mary chuckled. "I have taught him well."

Marshall took advantage of the moment to slip Mary his news. "And just so you know, Mare, you don't have to worry about me abandoning you to become a European art critic with Abigail for a sidekick. We broke up."

"Why?"

"Well, I just realized that we were different people. We were never going to work out. Abigail wants different things out of life."

Mary snorted, "Bullshit. You guys are like clones of each other, with a few anatomical differences, of course. You could be happy as the eternal nerds, taking the art world by storm and maybe nabbing some bad guys together along the way. Give me a real answer, Mann."

"Abigail asked me to move to Texas with her."

"Bad try, clearly a lie. Miss Texas 2004 told me she loved Albuquerque and looked forward to building her career with her, and I quote, 'Honey-bun."

Marshall winced, "I still can't believe she tried to call me that. No bad-ass lawman wants to be called honey-bun."

"Okay, cowboy, a couple of problems with your answer. A – I don't ever recall anyone calling you a bad-ass lawman. And B – avoid the question much?"

Marshall glared at Mary. "I really hate when you're right, Mare. You know that, right?"

Mary smiled innocently, "Right back at you, cowboy."

"I broke up with Abigail because I was spending time with her that I should've been spending with you. No, Mary, don't interrupt. I wasn't going to spend more time with you out of any sense of obligation or pity. I should've been spending more time with you because every time I was hanging out with Abigail, I wished you were there instead."

Mary's eyes widened. "Why, Marshall? I constantly insult you, I yell at you, I insult your clothes, your hair, and well, generally everything about you. I'm a bitch and I've fucked up every part of my life that wasn't fucked up by the family I was born with. Abigail was sweet and caring in a way that I can never be. Hell, even I would choose Abigail over me, and I think that she's a wormy, snotty, suck-up who couldn't mind her own business if her life depended on it."

Marshall smirked, "And I thought you were starting to like her."

"Well," Mary shrugged, "she had grown on me a little. Like maybe a tenth of a centimeter."

"I would've loved to hear your description of her before."

"You're avoiding the issue, cowboy. Christ, and I thought I was the one with avoidance issues."

Halting at a stoplight, Marshall took the opportunity to look Mary in the eyes. "Abigail is fun to be with, but she could never hold a candle to you. You've been my partner for near ten years now, Mare. No one could ever replace you. Ever. I love your spunk, your sarcasm, your love for your family, your devotion to your job. I know you like no one else does. And I love every aspect of who you are. Every single thing. You can't hide from me behind masks, Mary. I know who you are and I would never try to change anything about you."

Mary, overwhelmed, sat silently in the passenger seat. She couldn't even look at Marshall, afraid that the sight of his earnest face would cause her to tear up. "The light's green, Marshall," Mary whispered.

Sighing, Marshall pulled into the intersection. Running the red light, an SUV barreled into the side of the marshals' vehicle.


End file.
